


The Path to You

by Jackie_Cronefield



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Implied Sexual Content, Loss, Mentioned Blue Lions Students (Fire Emblem)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29092740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackie_Cronefield/pseuds/Jackie_Cronefield
Summary: Arranged marriages, war and death; those are just a few of the things Sylvain and Ingrid went through. Pain, heartbreak, and sorrow wracked their lives, the two never truly being happy. When they thought they would finally catch a break, war broke out, and they were torn apart once again. Through all this war and death, all this pain and sorrow, will the two find a path to each other?
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Kudos: 9
Collections: Sylvgrid Big Bang





	1. They Grow Up Too Fast

It was really weird, seeing a young boy playing the part of a princess, while the young girl played as the valiant knight, but that was just how things were between Sylvain and Ingrid. Ingrid had always admired the brave knights in her story books, seeking to be like them one day. Sylvain, on the other hand, liked playing the role of the princess. He could put on a little dress and talk in a shrill voice, no problem; he just knew his father would never let him hear the end of it if he saw Sylvain acting that way. Dimitri and Felix played their parts as well, Dimitri playing the beastly dragon guarding the princess’s tower, and Felix playing as the knight’s - Ingrid’s - squire. Even though most of their clothes were torn and muddy from playing by then, not one of them cared; nothing could stop their imaginary quest for glory and chivalry. Well, almost nothing; the sound of Rodrigue’s voice, calling for them to come inside the Fraldarius estate, snapped them out of their imaginary world, all of them suddenly racing for the estate’s entrance. 

Sylvain quickly pulled the tattered, muddy dress over his shoulders, tossing it aside as he ran. Ingrid and Felix dropped their wooden swords as well, Dimitri shaking off his fake dragon garb somewhere behind them. They all laughed as they trotted into the Fraldarius estate, arguing who had come in first.

“No way, I got here first!” Felix cried, catching his breath as he protested. 

“My foot hit the floor seconds before yours did, so I won!” Ingrid denied, laughing as she waited for Felix to catch his breath. 

“It seems like you four had some fun together.” Rodrigue chuckled, the four looking up to meet the man’s eye. “I’m sorry I had to call all of you in so suddenly, but there is something important that’s about to happen, and I need you all here for it.” 

With that, the four followed Rodrigue down to the main parlor, where their families sat quietly sipping tea. House Gautier, House Galatea, House Fraldarius, and the royal Bladdyid family, all in one room together. Glenn - Felix’s older brother - sat next to the window, looking both nervous and a little uncomfortable. It seemed like he had something on his mind, but Sylvain couldn’t imagine what. He had seemed fine that morning, Sylvain having last seen them shortly before they all went out to play. Something told Sylvain that, whatever important thing was happening, it involved Glenn; the fact that all of their parents were present as well made Sylvain nervous. Sylvain, Felix and Dimitri were then told to sit, the three taking a seat close by their respective families. 

Ingrid was about to seat herself as well, but her father stood before she could, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him with a puzzled expression, her father only gesturing for her to look forward as an answer. Ingrid’s eyes fell on Glenn, who was now standing in front of her, a seemingly unhappy look in his eye. 

Rodrigue was the one to break the silence, “I have called you all here today to make an announcement. Lord Galatea and I have been discussing something of importance for a long time now, and we came to an agreement just the other day. I am happy to announce that my son, Glenn Fraldarius, will marry Ingrid Brandl. Galatea once they have both come of age.”

While there were many sounds of joy and agreement around the room, none came from Glenn and Rodrigue, nor the other three children sitting in the room. While Dimitri and Felix looked at each other in surprise and confusion, Sylvain sat there, mouth agape in shock. Something inside him broke when Rodrigue said that, his heart feeling like it had just shattered into a million pieces. He had been in love with Ingrid for as long as he could remember, probably from the moment he laid eyes on her for the first time. Sylvain had thought about confessing to her at some point in the future, when the time was right; he had even daydreamed about them marrying one day. Now, all of those hopes and dreams had been swiped away from him. Ingrid would marry Glenn, and that was final; Sylvain knew that’s what arranged marriage meant. Ingrid and Glenn would marry as soon as they came of age, and there was nothing Sylvain, Felix, Dimitri, Glenn or even Ingrid could do about it. 

Ingrid’s eyes widened at the announcement, looking up at her father for an explanation, but his eyes continued to rest on Glenn, all with a smile on his face. She knew that her father had been looking for her to marry someone in future, as their family wasn’t fairing well in terms of finances, but she never thought he would force her into something like this. However, she knew that these things were common amongst the nobility; she wondered how she didn’t see this coming. Realizing she would get no explanation from her father, Ingrid focused her attention back on Glenn, a sad smile now spread across his face. He outstretched his hand to Ingrid, the same hand that had helped her up from the ground so many times; the one that belonged to the one she saw as a brother more than a friend. 

“Ingrid,” Glenn began, “I hope that we can bring honor and prosperity to our families, as well as become a loving husband and wife to each other in the future.”

Ingrid, with all the eyes now on her, knew she was supposed to take his hand. Taking his hand would mean that she accepted the engagement; that she would agree to marry Glenn, and tie their families together. With that one gesture, she would tie herself to one man and one man alone, never having the choice to choose her own life, or her own path. Seeming to sense her hesitation, Ingrid felt her father lightly squeeze her shoulder, urging her to take Glenn’s hand. Marrying into the Fraldarius family would be good for their family - financially and otherwise -, and it would likely strengthen the chance of another Galatea baby being born with a crest. Knowing that both her father and Rodrigue had agreed upon the arrangement, Ingrid reached out and took Glenn’s hand, forming a fake smile as she nodded; what other choice did she have but to accept? As Ingrid’s eyes met Glenn’s, she only hoped one thing: that she would one day come to love Glenn, and the pain filling her heart would fade soon after that. 

As soon as the clapping stopped, and the friendly conversation began, Sylvain slipped out of the room, walking out of the estate, and kept walking until he was sure he was alone. When Sylvain was finally alone, he sat on the ground, knees drawn up under his chin, muffled sobs mixing in with the chirping of birds. He wished he could take Glenn’s place; oh goddess he wished he could. Why did Glenn have to be the lucky one to marry Ingrid? Sylvain had at least hoped he would have a chance with her; from the way they had been getting along recently, he seemed to have had one. But that hope was now gone, replaced with only sadness, as well as an empty hole in Sylvain’s heart. Sylvain didn’t know how much he cried, only stopping when no more tears spilled from his eyes. 

After wiping away the tears and drying off his tear-soaked knees, Sylvain stood up, walking around the estate to the back patio. He could see the white ornate railing around it coming into view, glimpsing someone sitting at a small table, sipping some warm tea. Ingrid’s grandmother greeted Sylvain as he stepped onto the patio, asking if he would like a cup of tea. 

“No, thank you Ms. Galatea.” Sylvain declined politely, trying to fake a smile as he looked up at her. 

She saw through it almost immediately. 

“Now, what’s got you all down, little man?” she asked, turning her body towards him.

Though he hesitated at first, Sylvain finally confessed, spilling out all of his frustration and sadness about Ingrid and Glenn’s engagement. At least he didn’t have to worry about her telling anyone about what he said; if there was someone who could keep a secret, it was Ingrid’s grandmother. Ms. Galatea listened intently, nodding in deep thought once Sylvain finished. Sylvain finally took a seat across from her, trying to not let the tears flow again; that would just be embarrassing. Ms. Galatea slid a plate of pastries over to Sylvain, smiling as he took one, lightly nibbling on it as she began to speak. 

“I can understand why you would be so frustrated and sad about the engagement; why, I wouldn’t blame you if you were infuriated! I tried to talk my son out of pushing dear Ingrid into something like that, but goddess knows he doesn’t listen to me anymore. While I do know Glenn is a nice boy, and I know he’ll take good care of her, it’s not right to force someone to marry another.”

Ms. Galatea glanced at Sylvain, seeing him nod along with what she was saying, now picking at the pastry in his hands. 

“You want to know something, Sylvain? I was once in love with a man; and oh, was he a handsome one! Like you and Ingrid, we had known each other since we were children. We grew up together, me and him, and we eventually fell in love. We were very happy together, and had even talked about marriage; but, one day, he told me that his father had arranged for him to marry another noble girl. Of course I was furious, and told him he should tell his father no; that he should call off the whole engagement and marry me. However, I knew good and well that my love would never refuse his father; he was a family man, and loved his father very much.” 

“So, with that, we broke off our courtship, and he married his fiancee. Eventually, I fell in love with another nobleman, and we married and had children. You can likely figure out the rest after that. I know it’s really hard for you now, Sylvain; I know that you love Ingrid, and I wish I could break off the engagement with all my heart. However, we both know that I cannot, and we’re just going to have to deal with it.”

Ms. Galatea then gently took Sylvain's hand into hers, Sylvain looking up from his pastry to look into her soft, light green eyes. 

“But, if someday something changes, and the engagement is called off, you go after her, Sylvain. I may not have had the chance to marry my love, but your life might go differently than mine did. Just keep hoping and loving, Sylvain, and maybe, just maybe, you two will find a path to each other.” 

Sylvain smiled, squeezing Ms. Galatea’s hand lightly, a little glimmer of hope seeming to form deep inside his chest. 

“Thank you, Ms. Galatea,” he said. 

“Oh, I’m just trying to help the best I can.” she chuckled, letting go of his hand and leaning back in her chair. “It’s nonsense anyway, an old woman like me talking about her past love life!”

“You’re not that old to me, Ms. Galatea.” Sylvain interrupted, leaning forward, crossing his arms and laying them on the table. “I think you’re as beautiful as the goddess herself! I don’t even realize you’re as old as you are until someone mentions it.” 

“Oh, Sylvain, you flatter me so!” Ms. Galatea laughed, a light blush dusting her cheeks. 

Seeing Ms. Galatea react in such a way made Sylvain grin, continuing to compliment her until she was red in the face. Right after his tenth compliment, Ms. Galatea looked up, smiling as she spoke to someone behind him. 

“Hello, Ingrid dear! Would you like a cup of tea?”

Sylvain’s eyes widened in surprise, whirling his head around to see Ingrid standing behind him, an irritated expression on her face. Her cheeks were red and puffy, and her hands were balled into fists. 

She huffed and glanced to the side as she replied to her grandmother, “No, thank you granny.”

Seemingly sensing the sudden tension in the air, Ms. Galatea pulled her white lace shaw tight over her shoulders, commenting how cold it was before standing up from her chair, shuffling back into the estate in a matter of seconds. Sylvain had to give it to the old girl: for an older woman, she sure was fast. 

“How could you do that to my granny?” Ingrid chided, glaring daggers at Sylvain. 

“What do you mean?” Sylvain asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion. 

“You were flirting with my granny, Sylvain; my sweet, sweet granny! Do you have no shame?” 

“I wasn’t flirting with her!” Sylvain protested. “We were just talking, and I didn’t want her to feel like she was old! She’s a really pretty woman, and I had to tell her that.” 

“Then what was with that smirk on your face, and that moment when you reached over to touch her hair? What do you call that?” 

Sylvain’s confusion was slowly turning to anger, standing up from his chair to fully face Ingrid. 

“Why do you care anyway? It’s not like I’m getting married to her or something!” 

The way Sylvain looked at her when he said that, he might as well have stabbed Ingrid in the heart. She knew what he was referring to: her engagement to Glenn. Ingrid briefly thought back to the private argument she had just had with her father, about why he hadn’t asked her about the engagement before he made it final. 

“You’re too young to understand things like that, Ingrid.” he had said. “I am doing what is best for our family, and what is best for you. So please, just try to be happy with it; I promise, you’ll come to love Glenn eventually.” 

Her father had walked away right after saying that; at least he wouldn’t have to see the tears she cried afterwards. Glenn had found her sometime after her father had left, kneeling down beside her and wiping her tears away with his handkerchief. He made sure that she was alright, but didn’t need to ask why she had been crying; Glenn wasn’t stupid. 

“Ingrid, I wanted to tell you that I didn’t find out about this until today,” he began. “I knew that my father had been talking to yours for some time now, but I thought it was just talk between friends; I had no idea it was over our engagement. I’m not too happy about this myself; but I see why my father would agree to an arrangement such as this.”

Before he continued, Glenn sat beside Ingrid, pulling her into a gentle embrace. It was not one that was meant to be romantic, but one meant to be comforting and friendly; one like the many others they had shared in the past. 

“Your father and mine have been friends for many years now, and my father will always leap at the chance to help him. When he heard about your family’s financial troubles, he helped where he could, supplying funds and supplies when needed. However, my father knew he couldn’t do it forever; he had to provide for our family and his territory as well. When your father suggested your hand in marriage to me, my father had been reluctant. He didn’t want to force me or you into a situation like this, but knew that he couldn’t help your father the way he had been for much longer. So, wanting to secure the well-being of your father, you and the rest of your family, he agreed to the engagement. He told me that, if there was any other way, he would take it in a heartbeat, but he had weighed all options, and this is the best course of action.”

Glenn then pulled back a little, only to gently grip Ingrid’s arms, suddenly holding her gaze with his. 

“Ingrid, I promise that I will not force you to rush into this. We can prolong the engagement, if you wish, and I will give you all the time you need to adjust to our situation. I promise that I will not force you to do anything with me, romantically or otherwise. I love you as a friend, even as a sister; whether those feelings grow into more someday is up to fate. However, whether we grow feelings for each other or not, I promise to take care of you and your family, no matter what happens. I care for you deeply, Ingrid; I hope we can figure out how to go along with this engagement together.”

Remembering Glenn’s words, Ingrid met Sylvain’s eye, glaring up at him as she spoke to him.

“Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted to agree to something like this? Glenn and I didn’t have a choice, Sylvain!”

“Even so, how do you expect it to work out?” Sylvain asked, his voice beginning to raise in volume. “You don’t even love him!” 

“It doesn’t matter if I love him or not,” Ingrid snapped back. “This arrangement will do well for my family and his. Even if I don’t love Glenn, I know that he’ll take care of me and my family; I might even come to love him one day.”

“And if you don’t?” Sylvain asked. “Will you just let yourself suffer, staying married to a man you don’t even love? Don’t you realize that you might never know love because of that, and if you do, you’ll never get to love that person in return?” 

“Do you think I haven’t thought about that already?” Ingrid yelled. “Do you know how much it hurts for me to know that? Don’t talk about things you don’t even understand! At least you have a choice; you’ll never know what it’s like to not be able to be with the one you love!” 

Sylvain sucked in his breath, hands balled into fists, his teeth grit in anger. Before either could say another word, Sylvain turned and walked away. Sylvain felt Ingrid’s eyes on his back until he turned a corner. Oh, if only she knew; if only she knew how much he loved her, and how much he wanted to take Glenn’s place. Yes, he would likely never know what it was like to be an arranged marriage, he hoped he never did, but she would also never know that he was also suffering from the engagement. That he was suffering from the fact that he would never be able to love Ingrid. Damn the nobility, damn arranged marriages, damn the crest system; damn everything that led up to this! Sylvain ignored everyone he passed, shaking Glenn’s hand off his arm as he walked past, not stopping until he was back at where he, Felix, Dimitri and Ingrid had played an hour before.


	2. A Heartache No One Can Heal

No one was prepared for the suffering that would follow some years after, when the Tragedy of Duscur took place. King Lambert was murdered, along with many Faerghust soldiers; Glenn was among them. Not only had Dimitri lost his father, and Rodrigue had lost his closest friend, they also had lost Glenn. Even though Rodrigue put on a brave face, keeping calm and collected, Sylvain could only imagine what he was going through. Rodrigue was one of the lucky few to survive the tragedy, but that didn’t exactly mean he came out unscaved. He had suffered many injuries, and witnessed Lambert and Glenn’s murders firsthand. He had also been the one to find Dimitri, his eyes pale with fear, standing before his father’s lifeless body. 

Lambert and Glenn’s funerals were held shortly after the tragedy, along with the many other knights and soldiers that had been slain. Sylvain had never seen so many people cry so much, though he couldn’t deny he was among those people. He might have been jealous again after his engagement to Ingrid, and hadn’t talked to him since then, but Glenn had been like a brother to all of them. The only one who stayed silent throughout the entire time was Dimitri. He wasn’t the same boy he had been before; you could hardly get a word out of him now. Dimitri just seemed to stare blankly ahead, his eyes vacant of almost any feeling; the picture of traumatization. Dimitri wasn’t the only one who had drastically changed either; Felix had taken a turn for the worse as well.

Not only was he grieving the loss of his older brother, Felix was also growing resentful of his father. Sylvain wondered if it was because he wished Rodrigue had died instead of Glenn, or that he was angry that his father couldn’t save Glenn. However, what really set Felix off was what Rodrigue had said at Glenn’s funeral, when he spoke about his son before they buried him. 

“He died like a true knight.” Rodrigue had said, his straight face likely a façade, hiding all of his inner suffering. 

In that moment, Felix suddenly stood up from his seat, startling the entire congregation that had gathered for Glenn’s funeral. Felix glared angrily at Rodrigue, looking like he was about to yell at him, but stormed out of the church instead. Later on that day, after they had buried Glenn and returned to the Fraldarius estate for dinner, Sylvain saw Felix outside, ferociously swinging a wooden sword at a training dummy. Despite all of the sadness and change surrounding Sylvain, what hurt him the most was seeing Ingrid, now fraught with grief. Many believed this was because she had loved Glenn, and that she was crying because she would now never marry him; but Sylvain knew that that wasn’t the case. Ingrid had loved Glenn, yes, but not as a lover or fiancée; she had loved him like a brother, like the friend she, Sylvain and Dimitri knew him as. Honestly, Sylvain wondered if everyone assuming the things they did just made it all the worse for poor Ingrid. 

A few days after Glenn’s funeral, Sylvain made a trip to the Galatea estate to visit Ingrid. For once, his father didn’t complain too much about it; from what Sylvain heard, he was already tending to matters concerning Miklan. What those matters were, Sylvain didn’t exactly know, but he didn’t care that much at the time. All Sylvain could focus on was Ingrid and her current well-being, mentally and emotionally. When the Gautier carriage pulled up to the front of the Galatea estate, Sylvain suddenly realized just how downhill the Galatea family had gone. The estate was worse for wear, green vines slowly stretching their way up the outer walls. There was chipped paint here and there, and the gardens had seen better days. 

When Sylvain exited the carriage and entered the estate, he only saw a few servants, who were running back and forth frantically, likely trying to get the place looking decent for the son of Gautier’s arrival. Ingrid’s father greeted Sylvain as soon as he walked in, though their exchange was brief. Sylvain didn’t care to converse with Count Galatea; in Sylvain’s mind, he was the cause of Glenn and Ingrid’s engagement, using Ingrid as a pawn to gather more wealth for the Galatea family. All nobles were the same, in Sylvain’s mind; the only exception was Rodrigue, who, despite the engagement, Sylvain saw as more of a father than his own. Once Sylvain was directed to the room Ingrid was in, Sylvain made his way there, leaving Count Galatea behind. Once he reached the sunroom of the estate, Sylvain quietly opened and shut the door behind him. Ingrid barely even acknowledged him, glancing his way before turning her gaze back to the window, looking out at the land that stretched beyond the estate. Sylvain walked over to where she sat, eyeing the black dress and shaw she wore; he hated that she was supposed to wear that for the next six months. 

“I just wanted to come and check on you.” Sylvain said, his voice gentle and comforting.

He put on a small smile, though didn’t bring out the full Gautier charm. He knew Ingrid wasn’t in the mood for that, much less in the mood for any kind of happiness. Ingrid only nodded a little in response, her gaze still fixated on the countryside beyond the window. Sylvain took a seat close by her, but not directly next to her; as much as he wanted to hold her in his arms, he knew she likely wasn’t ready for that yet. They sat in silence for a little while, both gazing out at the world beyond, Sylvain glancing at Ingrid every minute or so. 

Finally, Ingrid spoke, “Have you heard from Felix or Dimitri?” 

Her voice was quiet, lacking the energy she used to have. Sylvain knew she likely wouldn’t be the same for a long while, not any time soon at least. Though the quiet, mournful tone of her voice made him feel empty inside, Sylvain forced a smile, crossing his leg over the other as he turned to face her. 

“Not since the funeral, no,” he replied, making sure to watch his tone. “Dimitri hasn’t really talked much since the tragedy, but I did hear from my father that he had taken a Duscur boy as his vassal recently.”

Sylvain immediately regretted mentioning Dimitri’s new vassal. Ingrid tensed as Sylvain mentioned Duscur, her eyes clouding with what looked like anger and contempt. Her hands clenched her shawn, tugging it snug over her shoulder; if she had gripped it any harder, she likely would have torn it. However, despite the anger in her eyes, she kept her tone the same, although a bit more harsh and forced.

“Why did he take him in?” she asked, Sylvain flinching a little at the tone of her voice. 

“From what my father told me, Dimitri saved him from being killed during one of the pogroms against the Duscur people.” Sylvain explained. “He was going to be killed along with the rest of his people, but Dimitri stepped in and defended him. A little bit after that, the Duscur boy became his vassal. I didn’t hear much after that, but I know my father was furious about it.”

“And rightfully so,” Ingrid interrupted. “Why would Dimitri defend the ones who killed his father; who killed Glenn? Doesn’t he know that that boy could assassinate him at any moment?” 

“Ingrid,” Sylvain interrupted softly, “he was just a boy, probably no younger than us. He certainly wasn’t the one who led the massacre, let alone murdered Lambert and Glenn. Sure, he’s from Duscur, but that doesn’t mean he’s the direct cause of their deaths.”

“And you don’t think he could do the same thing when he grows older?” Ingrid snapped. “He might be young now, but when he gets older, he’ll end up just like the rest of those murderers!” 

The room fell silent after that, Sylvain’s heart having sunk to his stomach, hearing Ingrid raise her voice like she did. This wasn’t like Ingrid at all, to be so resentful towards someone, let alone a whole race of people. However, Sylvain could see where she was coming from; he himself had been a little off-put by Dimitri’s decision at first, but at least he later came to accept it. That Duscur boy was likely no different than they were now; they had all lost people they had cared about, and they were left behind to grieve and face the consequences of it. Sensing the growing tension in the air, Sylvain forced another smile, scooting a little closer to Ingrid as he changed the subject. 

“So, I’ve been getting a few looks from a lot of girls lately. You think I got a shot with any of them?” 

Ingrid only shrugged meekly in response, her expression soon turning distant and sorrowful once again, looking like she could cry at any moment. Sylvain wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her, pull her close, and do everything in his power to make her happy again; but he knew now wasn’t the right time. Right now, he just needed to give her some space, while also letting her know he was there for her whenever she needed him. 

“Hey, are you hungry, or thirsty at all?” he asked. 

Ingrid nodded in response, though didn’t turn to look at him. 

“Well, tell me what you want, and I’ll get it for you.”

Ingrid was silent for a moment, then finally requested for some tea and sandwiches. Sylvain nodded before getting up to get them, going down to the kitchens himself to prepare it. There were only two people down there, a cook and a maid. Though they protested and offered to get the tea and sandwiches for him, Sylvain declined, reassuring them he could get them himself. 

“You all have been running yourselves ragged, trying to run this whole estate on your own,” Sylvain said to the maid. “You need all the rest you can get. It’s not gonna kill anyone for the heir of Gautier to fix some tea and sandwiches one time.”

The maid blushed at his words, that blush worsening when Sylvain winked at her. She shyly scurried away as he prepared the tea, Sylvain watching as she hurried away. She was pretty cute, in Sylvain’s opinion; he wondered if she had a boyfriend. Once he had finished preparing two meat, cheese and lettuce sandwiches - Ingrid’s favorite -, along with some chamomile tea - also Ingrid’s favorite -, Sylvain made his way back to the sunroom. When he got back into the sunroom, thankfully not spilling anything along the way, he served some tea to Ingrid, putting one of the sandwiches in front of her. 

“Well, dig in!” he urged, trying to liven up the mood at least a little bit. 

Ingrid glanced down at the meal in front of her, delicately picking up the teacup and lifting it to her lips. She sipped the tea gingerly before placing it back on its designated saucer, a small smile replacing her mournful frown as she hummed, taking in the flavor. 

“It’s delicious,” she whispered, “thank you, Sylvain.”

Sylvain’s heart swelled with pride, his smile stretching twice as wide as Ingrid’s. 

“Anything for my favorite lady.” he chuckled, sitting down before digging into his own sandwich.


	3. One Thing After the Other

Sylvain visited Ingrid a few more times after that, all at different times. Some visits were in close succession; some were few and far in-between. Those that were few and far in-between were due to an incident that happened in the Gautier household: Miklan was disinherited as the heir of House Gautier. By degreed of Margrave Gautier, Sylvain was to be the new heir of their house; all because Sylvain bore the crest of Gautier, and Miklan didn’t. If Miklan’s teasing had been tiresome then, it was hell now. Ever since that day, Miklan had tried everything he could to get back at Sylvain. From simple teasing and spats, to Miklan trapping Sylvain at the bottom of a well to try and get rid of him. It all came to a climax when Miklan ran away from the estate, never to be seen again; the worst part was that Margrave Gautier didn’t even look for him. 

“Just one less stain on the Gautier house.” he had said, which only made Sylvain hate him even more. 

Sylvain didn’t like Miklan too much, but to just cast your own son away like that; Sylvain promised himself that, if he ever had children, he’d love them, crest or no. That wasn’t the only thing troubling Sylvain’s life at the moment: he had lost almost all contact with Dimitri, only receiving a letter or two from him throughout the years. His relationship with Felix was about the same, but at least he got to see him every now and again. Felix had changed over the last few years, all starting with Glenn’s funeral. He was no longer the smiling, chipper boy Sylvain had come to know; he was now cold and distant, seemingly caring about nothing but his training. Ingrid’s life wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows either; she had been having her own share of troubles as well. While she also had grown distant from Dimitri and Felix, she had also lost her granny to heart failure. 

Her and Sylvain had hardly had the chance to say goodbye; one moment she was fine, and the next she was dead. Ingrid couldn’t help but be mad at Felix and Dimitri when they didn’t attend. She knew that they weren’t as close to Ms. Galatea as she and Sylvain were, but she had always been nice to all of them. That wasn’t the only thing Ingrid was having to deal with, however; her father was starting to bring potential suitors for her to the estate. While Ingrid knew that her father still wanted her to marry into another noble house, so they could get better financially and socially, but she didn’t expect him to start up again this soon. Almost every week, her father would bring suitors in to meet her, all wanting to get a shot at getting her hand in marriage. They all failed, of course; some Ingrid just didn’t like, and some Ingrid knew were just after her crest. 

Both Sylvain and Ingrid coped with their troubles in different ways. For Ingrid, she escaped reality, at least for a little while, via her books. She read about brave knights and their quests for glory, as well as past kings and their exploits. Ingrid loved getting lost in tales from times gone by, or from legends that may or may not be true; she hoped she could be like them one day. Sylvain, on the other hand, coped with his troubles in a less than savory way: He coped through women. The Galatea maid was the first of many girlfriends he would have throughout his life. She had been let go from the Galatea house - likely because of financial reasons on their part -, and had come to the Gautier house in search of work. 

With vouching from Sylvain, she was taken in as a maid; but she soon became so much more to him. Sooner than later, Sylvain and the maid began their affair, having moments alone whenever they could. Their enthrallments of love and passion did not last long, however. Margrave Gautier soon found out about their affair, and banished the maid from Gautier territory. Once he had dealt with her, he confronted Sylvain, shaming and berating him for loving - let alone sleeping - with a woman who was not of noble birth. 

“What if you had gotten her pregnant?” he yelled. “Then we would have a bastard child on our hands!” 

“Well, you wouldn’t mind it too much if they had a crest, would you?” Sylvain retorted, which earned him a hard slap from his father. 

Needless to say, Sylvain’s relationship with his father turned to nothing after that. Despite his father’s words, Sylvain continued to have affairs with other women, escaping into the world of love and lust; at least it made him feel better than what he had to deal with at home. While Sylvain would never admit it to anyone, let alone himself, there was another reason why he continued to carry on his playboy lifestyle: those affairs kept him distracted from the longing he had for Ingrid. He still loved Ingrid, more than he had any other woman he had ever been with; but the more time went by, the more she went out of his reach. Even long after Ingrid’s mourning period had passed, the time never seemed right for Sylvain to convey his feelings to Ingrid. By the time Sylvain and Ingrid were enrolled into the Officer’s Academy, the possibility of being together with her seemed impossible. That belief only made Sylvain try harder to escape from the harsh, hurtful reality by going through women faster than his school assignments. 

Sylvain and Ingrid would find themselves interacting more often soon after they arrived at the Officer’s Academy. Sylvain, due to all of his flings and relationships, was already having his share of girl problems long before he entered the academy; but Ingrid didn’t start realizing how bad it was until they had enrolled there. Almost every other day, Ingrid would hear about some girl having her heart broken by Sylvain; that, or Sylvain had been getting chased around by a girl or two. Ingrid was the first to come up to Sylvain about his girl problems. She scolded him for how fast he went through girlfriends, and for how fast he broke their hearts as well. 

“You can’t just treat them like mere playthings, Sylvain!” Ingrid scolded. “They are real people, with real feelings; you can’t just get what you want out of them and then leave them without a word.” 

“That’s not what I do,” Sylvain protested. “I love every girl I date, honest and truly; it’s just that I don’t want to be with them for the long term. Most of them believe that I’m just going to suddenly want to marry them, or that they can change me for what they want me to be. I warn them ahead of time that I don’t wanna be in a long term relationship, and they accept that; it’s on them if they expect me to change my mind.” 

“Do you know how cold-hearted that is?” Ingrid asked. “Many of those girls’ hearts are fragile! They love you, and they know that you love them; at least until you suddenly drop them without warning, wanting to move onto someone better!” 

That first exchange wouldn’t be too different from the many that would come after. Every girlfriend or so of Sylvain’s would lead to another argument between the two. Whether it be because that girl got her heartbroken, or because Sylvain was running from one too many of them. The worst part was that, as the months rolled on, Sylvain’s addiction to the flesh got even worse. It all began when Miklan, Sylvain’s estranged older brother, stole the Lance of Ruin from House Gautier. Sylvain’s house, as well as their professor, were tasked with taking him down. It was dangerous for Miklan to wield the lance, as he did not have the crest needed to wield it; however, the full extent of that was not realized until they fought with Miklan. 

Just as they thought they had defeated Miklan, having backed him into a corner, something dark consumed him, turning into a hideous demonic beast. Sylvain, Ingrid, the professor and the rest of the Blue Lions stood there, shocked and horrified at what Miklan had become. However, the worst of it was that they had to fight Miklan in his current state, Miklan’s cries for help moments ago haunting Sylvain all the while. It was almost fitting that Sylvain had dealt the finishing blow, plunging his spear into the beast’s, Miklan’s chest. The beast collapsed to the ground, the beast soon fading away to reveal Miklan, lifeless on the floor. Sylvain turned away from the body, unable to look at his dead brother’s body. Despite everything Miklan had put him through in the past, he was still his brother; seeing his own brother lifeless on the ground was too much for Sylvain to take. 

To distract himself from the pain his confrontation with Miklan had caused, Sylvain laid with more and more women. Though his behavior turned worse, and Sylvain knew it; it couldn’t entirely stop the burdens on his mind, but it was a whole lot better to feed his addiction than linger on those burdens. However, every time Sylvain laid beside a woman after a night of passion, those dark thoughts, filled with sadness and pain, crept into his mind. Could he have done more to help Miklan in the past? If he could have, would Miklan have become a better person, and be alive today? The pain grew even worse when he realized that the woman he laid beside that night, and many after her, only courted him in the hopes of gaining nobility. They knew how valuable a child with a crest was, and how the mother of that child would reap all the benefits of the wealth and prestige that came with it. 

Sylvain was disgusted by this, and it only caused him to go through girlfriends even faster. He knew that almost everyone who wanted to court him wanted him for his crest and status; that was just how people were. 

In a way, Ingrid knew why Sylvain dove deeper into his addiction to women, but that didn’t mean she supported it. Unbeknownst to everyone, she had feelings for Sylvain that went way further and deeper and friendship; seeing Sylvain like this both broke her heart and frustrated her. She was sad that he felt like he had to distract himself with love and sex to get away from his problems, and frustrated that he didn’t try talking to anyone about it. Ingrid was also frustrated about some of the women who were victims of Sylvain’s playboy behavior; the ones Ingrid knew were not after Sylvain’s crest of status. There were people who truly loved Sylvain, no matter his status or crest; he was just too blind to see it. 

Dimitri helped where he could to keep Sylvain in line, but he seemed preoccupied with something Ingrid couldn’t put her finger on. Ingrid didn’t even bother to ask Felix; Ingrid knew now, with his cold and distant attitude, that he wouldn’t want to help anyway. As a matter of fact, both Ingrid and Sylvain had been noticing something off about Dimitri and Felix. While Felix had been cold and distant for a while, hardly wanting to focus on anything other than his training, Dimitri seemed off since he enrolled at the academy. While Sylvain and Ingrid were happy to see their old friend again, it seemed like something was always preoccupying him in his mind. He would seem distracted sometimes, or like he wasn’t even there at all; and Dimitri only got worse as the months went on. In reality, everyone was on a downward slope as the months rolled on. 

From the incident at Remire village, to Jeralt’s death, to the professor’s transformation after nearly dying, all of their lives seemed to crumble around them more and more. Dimitri seemed to lose sanity with each month, Felix became more angry and apprehensive, and Sylvain seemed to indulge more and more in his addiction. Ingrid wondered how much she, and anyone else in her house for that matter, could take. The only moment of peace Ingrid seemed to get was when she had a conversation with Sylvain about restraining himself on his quest to woo every girl in sight. For a moment, it seemed like everything was back to normal, especially with how calmly they talked to each other. Despite all the trouble Sylvain caused, Ingrid really did care for him, more than Sylvain would likely ever know. At least he had promised to consider his actions more carefully in the future, and to stop acting nonchalant about getting himself hurt or killed. 

Sylvain at least did intend to keep that promise; he knew Ingrid had a point. He hadn’t really been considering his safety recently, nor how much he was going around and flirting with anything that had a pulse. Sylvain really didn’t know how much he had let himself go until Ingrid called him out for it. Before he knew, his feelings for Ingrid came back with a vengeance. He had drowned himself in love and lust so much that he had almost completely blocked out the love he had for her; in a way, that was one of the reasons why Sylvain had started going out with other women. While the events that had taken place over the course of the past couple of months had something to do with it, his longing for Ingrid had been really what started it off. While he had loved every girl he had been in a relationship with, he loved Ingrid even more; he likely would for the rest of his days. 

However, they never could have been prepared for what would happen next. Shortly after Sylvain made that promise to Ingrid, the professor made a trip to the Holy Tomb, the Blue Lions and the archbishop in tow. It was supposed to be for some divine message or blessing from the goddess to be bestowed on the professor; at least, that’s what Sylvain had gathered. However, just as the professor sat on the large, stone throne at the end of the tomb, the Flame Emperor and some imperial soldiers burst in. They started ransacking the tomb, taking crest stones from the graves scattered throughout the tomb. Before Sylvain and Ingrid knew it, they were all diving headfirst into battle once again. The greatest shock of all came at the end of the battle, when Dimitri defeated the Flame Emperor, knocking off their mask in the process.

Nobody expected Edelgard to be the Flame Emperor, nor did they expect Dimitri’s reaction to the revelation. Just seeing Dimitri snap like that made Ingrid and Sylvain’s stomach turn, seeing the friend they had grown up with suddenly become unrecognizable. Who was this man they saw before them, with insanity and bloodlust in his eyes? Their shock wore on even after Edelgard had fled, Felix’s words sometime later only pushing that shock even further. 

“So, he has finally shown his true face.” Felix hissed, seemingly talking to no one in particular. 

Was this why Felix had been so distant with everyone, more so Dimitri? How long had he been holding onto this? How long had Dimitri been keeping this in? There were so many questions, and not many answers; it was so overwhelming for everyone. It got even worse when, a few days after, Edelgard, and the Adrestian Empire as a whole, declared war on the church. They also knew she would try and take down anyone who allied with the church, and that would likely include House Gautier, House Galatea, and definitely House Fraldarius. The world seemed to be grumbling around them once again, just as it had been when the Tragedy of Duscur occurred; only this time, all of Fodlan would be at war. 

That night, Ingrid locked herself in her room, sitting in her chair and sobbing into her hands; she couldn’t let anyone see her like this. Everything was happening all at once, and it was just too much for her to bear. How many lives would be lost this time? How many of her loved ones would be ripped away from her? Her mind, with many thoughts swirling around in it, suddenly settled on Sylvain; would she lose him to the war? Would he be the next person she had to bury? Ingrid broke down even more at the thought, her heart breaking in two. 

She prayed to every goddess that would hear her that he would be safe; that they all would be safe and make it out of the war alive. 

Sylvain was having a breakdown in his own room as well, crying for the first time in years. He was so used to holding all of his feelings in, holding back all of the tears that his father told him didn’t make a man. Sylvain couldn’t keep them in this time, however; at least he could hide himself in his room until they went away. Like Ingrid, he wondered how much the war would impact their lives. He thought about all of his friends and loved ones, and how the war would affect them as well. How would Felix deal with the war, having already lost his brother? 

What of Dimitri’s safety as the prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, let alone the state of his sanity? Not only that, but Sylvain would likely have to go back home to his father and his abuse. Sylvain had agreed to go to the academy just to get away from him; he didn’t think he’d ever be ready to go back. Finally, his thoughts settled on Ingrid; how was he going to keep her safe during the war? He knew that her father would protect her the best he could, and that Rodrigue would certainly help where he could, but what if that wasn’t enough? The thought of Ingrid getting hurt, or worse killed, set Sylvain into a fit of sobs. Here he was again, back against the wall, knees tucked under his chin, crying his heart out. 

He hadn’t been like this since Glenn and Ingrid’s engagement; gods, that seemed like a millennia ago now. Sylvain, in that moment, wondered if he would have treated Glenn differently if he knew he’d lose him shortly after. While a part of him said that he would have tried to keep their relationship strong, and not let jealousy cloud his judgement, Sylvain knew he was wrong. It didn’t matter anyway; what has past has past, and Sylvain had to deal with the consequences. As thoughts of the past and fears of the future combined together in his mind, Sylvain crumbled beneath them, crying all throughout the night; if only he knew Ingrid was doing the same.


	4. Separation and Reunion

When Edelgard and the imperial army arrived at Garreg Mach, Sylvain, Ingrid, and everyone else at the academy had a choice: to fight or to flee. Despite the odds, the two chose to fight with their classmates and comrades, charging into battle once more. However, despite how valiantly they fought, it was all for naught. Though Edelgard had been defeated, she called on reinforcements, who greatly outnumbered them all. Soon enough, everyone was forced to flee Garreg Mach, leaving it at the mercy of the Adrestian Empire. When they had run far enough from the church, and were finally someplace safe - at least for the time being -, Sylvain and Ingrid got more tragic news. The professor had been last seen disappearing down a canyon, likely falling to their death. 

Archbishop Rhea had also been seemingly captured, as none of the Knights of Seiros or other members of the church could find her. As the Blue Lions, as well as the other students, took all of this in, Ingrid and Sylvain witnessed Dimitri staring out towards the church, a crazed, hateful look in his eye. 

He spoke only once, seemingly to no one but himself, “I’ll have that girl’s head. Just you wait.” 

Sometime after the imperial army attacked, Dimitri was tried for treason, being accused for his uncle’s murder. Both he and his vassal, Dedue, were taken to the dungeons, Dimitri set to be executed shortly after that. Sylvain and Ingrid were horrified by the news; why would Dimitri kill his uncle? It just didn’t make any sense to them. However, when Cordelia took over Faerghus, and declared her allegiance to the empire - which in turn changed Faerghus from a kingdom to a dukedom -, Sylvain had a pretty good idea of what had happened. However, with Dimitri dead, he knew he would likely never get the answers he wanted. Now all he could focus on was defending Gautier territory from the imperial army, and in turn the Faerghus dukedom. 

Ingrid had to help defend her territory as well. Though her father had thought about allying the Galateas with the imperial army, Ingrid quickly changed his mind. 

“If you join the Adrestian Empire, I’m leaving,” she said. “I will not ally myself with the ones who killed the professor; who killed Dimitri.”

Needless to say, Ingrid’s father changed his tune very quickly. When Ingrid wrote to Sylvain about this, it was left up to him to decide why Count Galatea had listened to his daughter for once. Whether it was because he didn’t want to lose his only daughter, or because he didn’t want to lose his biggest bargaining chip, was up to interpretation. However, Sylvain could no longer focus on things like that. The empire was already threatening Gautier territory, as well as the Fraldarius and Galatea territories. The thought of losing Felix and Ingrid weighed heavily on Sylvain’s mind. He had already lost Glenn, the professor, and now Dimitri; he didn’t need to lose anyone else. 

Honestly, if the Fraldarius, Gautier and Galatea families didn’t help defend each other, they likely wouldn’t have survived the empire’s many attacks. The imperial troops that came from the Faerghus dukedom were relentless, attacking the territories whenever they could. Just as the Fraldarius, Gautier and Galatea armies had gotten a chance to breathe, the dukedom would attack again, causing the head of the families to dish out more and more troops. As more and more soldiers were slain, and more and more supplies were lost, the families’ armies were pushed further and further back. By the time Sylvain had remembered the promise they had all made five years ago - the one where they would return to the academy during the millennial festival -, the fight was basically taking place in their backyards. Though Sylvain knew it was risky, he tried his hardest to stay in contact with Ingrid and Felix throughout the war. Many letters were exchanged between the three, and while most were about the current state each of their armies and territories were in, some were just messages between friends.

While Felix’s were sparse, only sending a few letters every couple of months, Ingrid and Sylvain stayed in close contact with each other. They comforted each other where they could, and cheered the other up in their own way; even if that cheer was short lived. Sylvain would cheer Ingrid up with jokes and his playful attitude, while Ingrid would cheer Sylvain up by sending encouragement and support his way. By the time the millennium festival rolled around, Ingrid and Sylvain were closer than ever before. Sylvain had even gotten comfortable enough to flirt with Ingrid in his letters to her, though it was very different from how he flirted with other women in the past. It was sweet and sincere, genuine and heartfelt; even though Ingrid always passed it off as Sylvain joking around, Sylvain considered it a win. 

Then, that fateful day came: The millennium festival. Well, at least what would have been, if things played out differently in the past. While it took some time to get Felix to come along, the three made their way to Garreg Mach. Despite all the odds, and all the dangers, they were going to keep their promise to the professor; it’s what they would have wanted. After many days of travel, doing their best to stay out of sight from imperial troops and thieves, the trio finally made it to Garreg Mach. It was but a husk of its former self, seemingly cast in shadows of regret and pain. Debris was scattered about the ground, walls having crumbled and left to rot. 

The three looked around for any signs of life, any sign of their former classmates. At first, they could not find any, hearing nothing but the wind and the chirps of a few birds. However, just as they were heading out of that desolate place, a familiar sound caught their ears: The distant sound of metal clanging against metal. It sounded as if someone was fighting; that was enough for the three to rush to the scene. When they neared where the sounds were coming from, Ingrid caught sight of two familiar figures in the distance. One had light green hair and eyes, wielding the Sword of the Creator; the other had messy, unkempt blonde hair, a spear clutched tightly in his hands. 

Hope filled Ingrid’s heart as she rushed towards the two, Sylvain and Felix following close behind, their weapons already drawn. So, they weren’t the only ones to keep their promise after all. The professor came into view, dealing the finishing blow on a bloodied thief, soon falling lifeless on the ground. Their eyes landed upon the three, a smile glimpsing their features before more enemies appeared from around the corner. There was no time for pleasantries, nor time to answer the questions running through Ingrid, Sylvain and Felix’s minds; there was a fight to be won first. Another shocking sight appeared before the three moments later, a tall man charging forward and impaling one of their foes with a spear. Dimitri stood before them, looking more than worse for wear, seemingly charged by the battle unfolding before them.

Dimitri barely gave them a second glance, barking orders at the three, telling them to head for the leader of the band of thieves. Sylvain and Ingrid flinched at Dimitri’s tone, the look in his eye being one of a mad man; Felix simply turned and ran to find his next opponent. Ashe, Mercedes, Annette and Gilbert later appeared, fighting alongside them, doing what they could to protect Garreg Mach from further pillaging. Soon, the battle was won, the leader of the thieves now a bloody, lifeless corpse at Dimitri’s feet. 

Ingrid and Sylvain ran to Dimitri, so happy and beyond shocked to see their friend standing before them, who they thought had been executed long ago. Ingrid was the first to seek, bombarding Dimitri with questions; they were soon stopped by Dimitri’s cold, uncaring voice.

“Shut up.” Dimitri said coldly, taking both Ingrid and Sylvain aback. 

“Um, at least a hello would be nice!” Sylvain chided, angered by how cold Dimitri seemed toward Ingrid. 

“We thought you were dead, Dimitri; executed! You could at least say hello, and let your friends be happy that you’re alive!” 

Dimitri didn’t say a word, simply turning and walking away, where Gilbert and the others stood. The professor stood beside the older man, a concerned expression apparent across their face, one that matched Ingrid’s. 

Soon, Ingrid, Sylvain, and their friends found out exactly what happened to Dimitri shortly after what they thought had been his executed. As Dimitri told them, Dedue had helped him escape the Faerghus dungeons, dying in Dimitri’s place. Once Dimitri had escaped, he went on the run, his rage toward Edelgard and her followers rapidly growing within him. Throughout the next five years, he would take out leagues of imperial soldiers alone, soon coming to find himself at Garreg Mach. This, apparently, was where the professor found him, themselves seemingly just awoken from a five-year slumber. Whether something inside Dimitri had pulled him to the monastery, subconsciously remembering the promise they had all made, Ingrid and Sylvain did not know. 

Felix seemed disgusted by Dimitri, upholding his opinion of Dimitri being a wild beast. 

“He is the same Dimitri,” Felix said. “He has just finally showed his true face: The face of a mad beast, hungering for nothing more than bloodshed and death.” 

Sylvain was troubled by Felix’s words, as well as Dimitri’s attitude, but he knew Ingrid was struggling the most. Though she withheld her calm composure, Sylvain could tell she was suffering on the inside. He wondered if others could see the pain and sadness in her eyes; probably not. 

Dimitri, the heir to Fhirdiad’s throne; the professor, the one chosen by the goddess; both were the start of the war against the empire. The church returned to the monastery, and Felix’s father, Rodrigue, soon provided troops, weapons, and supplies. They battled against the imperial forces, pushing them back, reclaiming land that had been taken by Edelgard. They soon took the Great Bridge of Myrddin, aided by a familiar face that had also thought to be long dead: Dedue. Dedue seemed to cause a change in Dimitri, however small it might have been. Sylvain and Ingrid had hoped that Dedue would be the one to push Dimitri back into the light, back to the man he used to be; they were soon disappointed. 

Dimitri continued to be the dark, seemingly insane man he had become, often seen standing silently inside the church, over the large pile of rubble that covered what had been the church’s altar. Ingrid and Sylvain would sometimes see Felix watching Dimitri from afar, but would simply state he was just examining the beast in all his disgusting glory; somehow, they both knew this was a lie. If Felix did not care for Dimitri, as he so claimed, he would not even bother to watch over him like he did. However, Sylvain and Ingrid didn’t say a word, simply hoping that, one day, both of their friends could return how they had been years before: Happy. 

Dimitri and Felix were not the only ones struggling. Ingrid spent countless nights worrying over Dimitri and Felix, as well as the war that they were fighting in. Would everything truly be okay in the end? Would everything return to normal after the fighting? Could the relationships she had with her friends ever truly be the same? 

Sylvain struggled with these feelings as well, but with something else on the side. Over the last five years, as well as the few months they had been fighting the empire, Sylvain’s heart had yearned for Ingrid like never before. Seeing her in pain broke him, and seeing her try to hide that pain only made it worse. Sylvain longed to see Ingrid smile; to see her enjoy herself as she once had. However, she was often busy helping around the monastery, coming up with new strategies the army could use, and training for the next battle ahead. The only time Sylvain really got to talk to Ingrid was whenever they sat down to eat; with how fast Ingrid could scoff down a meal, that wasn’t much time at all. 

Sylvain wanted to make Ingrid happy, wanted to make her smile, wanted to give her everything he had. He longed to hear that beautiful laugh of hers, yearned to hear her scold him like she had in the past; he would sit through thousands of her lectures if he had to. As he thought about this one night, laying in his bed, staring up at the stone ceiling above him, Sylvain confirmed something to himself: He was in love with Ingrid, madly so. Sylvain had drowned himself in women to forget his pain. Sylvain flirted and dated to forget his worries, to forget his family troubles, to forget Glenn’s death, to forget how much he longed for Ingrid; they had all been for naught. Sylvain thought that he had never gotten serious with a girl because he figured they only wanted his crest, and while that was part of the reason, it wasn’t the whole truth. The whole truth was that he loved Ingrid, always had; fate had just never allowed him the right time to be with her.

It certainly wasn’t the time now, in Sylvain’s mind. They were all waging war against the empire, hellbent on taking down Edelgard, and ending her reign of tyranny. War definitely wasn’t the time to spill his guts to Ingrid, especially when he knew that she was also going through a hard time. Suddenly laying himself at her feet would just be another hurdle she had to overcome; another reason to keep her up at night. Ingrid couldn’t hide her sleepless nights from him; she couldn’t hide those droopy-eyed bags from him. 

Unbeknownst to Sylvain, Ingrid was already struggling with something other than the war, as well as her worry for Dimitri and the future. Before she knew it, Sylvain had stolen her heart, right out from under her nose. She didn’t exactly know when she started falling in love with him, but it was too late to stop her heart from doing so. By the time it had finally hit her as to why her cheeks flushed whenever Sylvain met her eye, why her heart fluttered whenever he smiled, why her stomach did flip flops whenever he said her name, it was too late. Ingrid cursed herself for this, shaming herself for falling for Sylvain. Was she betraying Glenn and his memory, wanting to marry a man other than him? How would Felix and Rodrigue feel, knowing her heart belonged to someone else? 

Ingrid yearned to be with Sylvain, wanting to run into his arms and be held in his embrace forever, but she held herself back. Besides the guilt and shamed that racked her heart, Ingrid knew there was no time for love. She had to protect her friends, allies, and loved ones from the empire, and save as many lives as she could along the way. She could worry about love and boys later; all that mattered then was her will to fight.


	5. The Remains of the Shattered Shield

No one was ready for what the next battle would bring. They marched to where, five years ago, the Battle of the Eagle and Lion took place. However, things were different than they were back then. This time, there were real weapons, real risks, and so many lives at stake; everyone knew some wouldn’t be going home that day. As the battle raged on, weapons clashed, blood spilled, and many men and women cried out in a mix of rage and pain. All of the noise, blood, and death made Ingrid’s head spin, Sylvain himself wishing he could cover his ears and block everything out. There was no time for that, however, the two charging on with their comrades, striking down any foe that came near. 

As the sun began to set on the blood-soaked, body-littered land, Ingrid and Sylvain saw Dimitri, spear in hand, standing before Edelgard. They seemed to exchange words at first, but they were brief. Soon, Dimitri let out a beastly roar of rage, lunging at Edelgard, commencing the fight between them. He looked like a man possessed, swinging his spear sporadically, always aiming for Edelgard’s head. In their horror, Edelgard managed to knock Dimitri to the ground, her axe coming down to strike him. Thankfully, before the axe could plunge into the prince’s chest, the professor dashed forward, blocking the attack with their sword. Edelgard seemed to waver for a moment, a saddened look crossing their features, but it was very brief.

Edelgard and the professor engaged in combat, the professor eventually landing a critical blow to Edelgard’s arm. The emperor staggered back, clutching her would, blood slowly cascading down her arm. Before the professor could attack Edelgard again, the emperor retreated, escaping the battlefield with the help of Hubert and a few imperial soldiers. Ingrid and Sylvain watched as Dimitri, despite his weakened state, dashed after her, intent on ending her life then and there. However, Rodrigue stopped him, pleading for Dimitri to retreat, as the imperial army was closing in on them. Dimitri argued with Rodrigue, the professor signaling Sylvain, Ingrid, and the others to begin their retreat. They all did as ordered, making their way off the battlefield, helping any injured soldiers they came across. 

Ingrid suddenly stopped, halting her pegasus, hearing a commotion coming from where she last saw Rodrigue, Dimitri, and the professor. She thought she had heard someone laughing; a maniacal, mad cackle. Sylvain noticed Ingrid stop, riding over to her on his horse, asking if there was something wrong. Ingrid did not answer, turning around to see where the commotion was coming from. Her and Sylvain’s eyes landed on the four figures in the distance, just in time to see Flech - the little girl that had joined the army after they took the Great Bridge of Myrddin -, swing her sword, and cut into Rodrigue’s flesh. 

She had seemingly been aiming for Dimitri, his back having been turned to her, seeming to accept the death she would bring upon him. All at once, Dimitri, the professor, Ingrid, and Sylvain all watched in horror as Rodrigue fell to the ground. The professor swung their sword at Flech, slashing her neck, the girl too soon falling to the ground, lifeless. Ingrid’s eyes flooded with tears, screaming out in pain and sadness as Dimitri fell to his knees, holding Rodrigue in his arms, the man soon going limp; they had all had just watched him die. 

Ingrid made a move to dash towards Rodrigue, but Sylvain held her back, telling Ingrid that he was gone, and there was nothing they could do. She struggled against him for a few moments, turning to hit and slap his arms and chest, but soon coming to embrace him tightly. Ingrid cried into the armor that covered Sylvain’s chest, Sylvain’s own tears beginning to fall down his face. Rodrigue had been like a father to them, always caring for them as if they were his own children; they had just watched that man die before their eyes. Sylvain suddenly heard the sound of a weapon dropping behind him, Sylvain turning his head to see Felix, standing stark still, eyes wide and focused on his fallen father. Felix stood there, seemingly frozen in place, having not noticed that his sword had fallen from his grasp; that, or he did not care. 

Sylvain couldn’t exactly describe the look in Felix’s eyes, having never seen his friend look that way. Sylvain could only describe it as a paralyzed shock, Felix’s eyes flooding with emotions Sylvain could not identify. About a minute later, Felix slowly lowered his head, his expression hidden by his blue hair, now disheveled from hours of battle. Sylvain saw his body begin to shake ever so slightly, Felix’s hands balling up into fists. Before Sylvain could say a word to him, Felix ran in the opposite direction, dashing past all of their allies, who also wore their own expressions of horror and sadness. 

Sylvain cast his eyes back onto Dimitri, who now held Rodrigue close to his chest, crying into his shoulder. The professor looked down at them, their eyes drooped, their mouth coming to form a saddened frown. Sylvain thought he could see the glint of tears begin to form at the corners of their eyes, but he wasn’t sure. Sylvain, overwhelmed by all the grief happening around him, stuffed his face into Ingrid’s hair, her smell mildly comforting him. She smelled of lilies and a sweet shampoo, her hair feeling as soft as the feathers of a pegasus. If Sylvain was not in as much grief and turmoil as he was then, with the sound of Ingrid and Dimitri’s cries in his ears, he likely could have fallen asleep then. 

There was no time for grief, however, Ashe called out to them, warning that the imperial army was nearly upon them. Though he hated to let her go, Sylvain released Ingrid from his embrace, cupping her cheeks with his hands, telling her they had to get moving. Ingrid wiped away her tears with her arm, nodding solemnly, Sylvain removing his hands from her face as she mounted her pegasus. Sylvain quickly mounted his own horse, making sure Dimitri and the professor were falling close behind before galloping away. Sylvain would later hear that, throughout their journey back to the Great Bridge of Myrddin, Dimitri never once let go of Rodrigue’s body; he held onto him for dear life. Once they finally reached the bridge, Sylvain caught sight of Felix, slashing away at a training dummy, now a tattered shadow of its former self. 

Felix must have ran very fast to be able to get there before he did; the run of a grief-ridden man. Sylvain could only imagine the pain Felix was going through; the pain he would never admit to anyone. Felix had always held up the fact that he hated his father. He hated him so much that Felix had done everything he could to avoid Rodrigue during his time in Dimitri’s army. However, despite all the hateful things Felix said about his father, Sylvain didn’t believe they were all true; really, especially now, Sylvain had a hard time believing Felix despised him. Sylvain often wondered if Felix simply despised Rodrigue for what he said about Glenn all those years ago, back when they had buried Glenn and the other soldiers who were killed during the Tragedy of Duscar. That, or Felix simply hated that Rodrigue had come back instead of Glenn; they were the closest pair of siblings anyone had ever known. 

What was Felix feeling now, suddenly having lost his father? From the way he shredded the training dummy with his sword, Sylvain could at least take a guess. Sylvain wanted to go over to Felix; to comfort him and hold him tightly, letting the blue-haired man cry into his shoulder. However, that was not Felix; he had never been the one to cry or receive comfort so willingly. To go to him now would likely only make Felix suffer more, either ignoring Sylvain altogether, or yelling and screaming for him to go away. So, Sylvain left Felix alone to his grief, which he continued to take out on yet another training dummy, the one before now only a heap of rags and wool. 

They all grieved in their own ways: Felix slashing away at a training dummy, eyes blackened with rage and unspoken sorrow; Ingrid locked away in her room, sobbing uncontrollably into her hands; Dimitri being pried away from Rodrigue’s body, only to cling to the professor's moments after; Sylvain carelessly flirting with the female soldiers, only to be pushed away for his lack of enthusiasm and forced charm. What sorrow one shattered shield can bring.


End file.
